


An Untitled Doctor Who Fanfiction

by AlixxBlack



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen, Sad Fluff, missing clara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 04:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16468742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlixxBlack/pseuds/AlixxBlack
Summary: The Doctor meets a woman who would make a good companion, he thinks, but when she tells him what her name is - he just can't.





	An Untitled Doctor Who Fanfiction

            She’s gasping for air – she’ll never come back on the TARDIS.

            But she’s smiling – so she might’ve had a really good time.

            No, she’s shaking her head. There’s no way I’ll convince her to come with me.

            She was _so_ good, though.

            I owe it to the universe to ask.

            “What was your name, you?” I interrogate with an air of urgency, sliding my hands into my pockets. It pushes my jacket open, leaving me in this power pose. I lectured about power poses once, just to fill empty time and keep talking. I can’t be sad if I keep talking. Anyway, it all but verbally commands her attention. Eyeballing me carefully, she shrugs her shoulders in resignation. It’s not a becoming sign of someone who could become my companion, but her heroism during that disaster in the mines has more than proven her abilities. She can work under pressure with a smile and undeniable charm. It would balance my distinct “cross” persona.

            “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours, I suppose,” she laughs, watching me jump my brows bounce up, changing up my grumpy expression to one of surprise. I suppose it is probably amusing. After all, what she did was brilliant – very tricky – and I do love it.

            I shrug my shoulders back at her, loosening my stance and glancing away. I haven’t had a companion for many years. Too many years. I’m not supposed to be traveling at all, technically, but here I am, popping about every now and again. It’s high time, I think, to have someone as a companion. Even if they are only on standby... Right?

            Of course, I’m right. I’m the Doctor.

            Even when I’m wrong, I’m probably right.

            “The only name I’ve ever known is Doctor. That’s what everyone calls me. There’s nobody left who knows my real name.” It comes as no surprise that she doesn’t accept my answer for what it is since I’m clearly dodging. Still, it’s not a complete lie either. If she doesn’t like it, then I guess she’s not the best fit for this life.

            “I will respect your privacy,” she says, cheery and bright. Offering her hand to me, she continues joyously. “But my name is Clara Hilliard.”

            My hand was outstretched moments ago, but I retract it when she says her name. There’s a tense awkwardness between us. I can’t explain why her name has struck me so, why I am broken upon hearing it. Something about that name is painful for me. I don’t know why, those memories are gone, but tears are prickling at the corners of my eyes.

            “Clara, you say?” I choke nervously.

            She looks scared.

            But she can’t look more scared than I feel right now.

            I want to know why I am hurting like this, but I can’t. I’m racking my brain and I just can’t find it. Nowhere in my mind is there a reason why the name Clara has my hearts racing, breaking faster than I can breathe. I don’t understand it. I want to – I can’t – but I _want_ to.

            “Are you okay, Doctor? Is there a problem?” It is she who questions me now.

            But I’m speeding away. I won’t answer her question. I can’t answer it, which is almost as bad as not having the answer. She doesn’t call after me, which makes it easier to leave; though it makes me feel blind for thinking she was ready for a run through the stars.

            I hate not knowing.

            And there’s no amount of running I can do to catch the answer.

            As I close the door and prepare to leave on my own, I hear a soft whisper in my head: _Run, you clever boy._


End file.
